Highlander Taken. Juliette Miller

way,” commented Clementine, “there can be little doubt about his...energy. We all witnessed it in the sparring ring. He’s unlikely to be gentle with you, Stella—and we say this, of course, with only your best interests at heart. You must be forewarned. Kade Mackenzie is marrying you to claim our clan’s lairdship, and not for reasons of affection. You must go into this marriage with your eyes open to the grim reality of the situation.”

      This was hardly news, yet they continued. And it was not the first time I wished they might change the subject, that we might be able to discuss the weather, a favorite song, a new fashion—anything but my troubling future. I knew they were trying to comfort me as best they could, under the circumstances. They were merely excitable at the drama of my predicament and entirely preoccupied with discussing it relentlessly. I wished I could daydream of faraway places. Of Edinburgh, and beyond. But it was not to be.

      “I’m sorry to say it, dear sister,” said Maisie, “but you have no choice but to expect the worst. He appears charming enough, but it’s clear enough he has a wicked temper. You saw him in the heat of battle. I dread to think what he’ll bring to the marriage bed.”

      “Aye,” said Clementine, still gazing out the window, lost as she often was in her own disappointment in the subject at hand. “He’s bound to be an absolute tyrant both in and out of your private chambers.”

      Agnes and Ann agreed, nodding silently with wide eyes. Since they were the youngest of us, the very mention of a marriage bed was enough to stun them into speechlessness. To be sure, it did similar things to me. In only a few short days, I would be at the mercy of my new husband. The thought of Kade Mackenzie—his size, his flashing light eyes and the contained strength of him that radiated from his movements like an aura—filled me with dread. My sisters spoke the truth. There was no telling what I might be subjected to.

      “He might have redeeming qualities,” ventured Ann. “He seemed rather amiable, I thought, even if it was forced. He spoke politely. And he certainly seemed to have eyes for you, Stella.”

      I considered Ann’s words, and could find some truth in them. Kade had appeared relaxed and somewhat amused by the lush attentions of the women at the festive gathering. And as I thought of it now, I couldn’t help considering that my sisters and cousins hadn’t thought him quite so tyrannical at the time. In fact, once Wilkie was clearly otherwise engaged, they had all turned their attentions quite convincingly to my brutish husband-to-be, and not without some enthusiasm.

      And now I could reflect that there had been more to Kade Mackenzie’s scrutiny than light, speculative appreciation. He tolerated the attentions patiently enough, engaging in conversation that clearly was not particularly interesting to him. He’d allowed the fluttery touches on his arms and his hair, the tittering responses to his every word. Having so many to choose from, I wasn’t sure why his eyes had followed me more than any of the others. In fact, I’d thought I’d imagined his preference for me—which, unlike my sisters, I had quietly attempted to discourage.

      I remembered the glint in Kade’s eye. On the contrary, I find insolence in women intriguing—it happens to be an affliction that I’m usually able to cure almost entirely under the right circumstances. Not malicious, as such. But playfully intimidating nonetheless. I had been indisputably drawn to him, aye, in ways that had confounded me with their glittery insistence. But always, behind his appeal had lurked turbulent layers of the unknown. The rocky landscape of my abusive upbringing had instilled within me a very real fear of all things unknown, especially those bestowed by such a vital, well-armed soldier.

      The arrangements had been made, the agreement secured. No more protests would be made.

      “At least he’s something to look at,” Ann continued. “Those blue eyes are striking.”

      “’Tis true, Stella,” said Agnes. “Kade Mackenzie might be fierce, daunting and unruly—”

      “And huge,” added Clementine.

      “And rather unnecessarily cruel,” Agnes said.

      “And freakishly strong,” agreed Maisie.

      “But he is, in fact, quite handsome,” Ann continued. “Quite handsome.”

      “In a very rough, aggressive kind of way,” Agnes said. But I could detect from her tone that she wasn’t entirely convinced.

      And neither was I.

      Was Kade Mackenzie handsome? I considered this. Striking, aye. His hair was a dark, sable-brown—as opposed to his black-haired brothers: that was the first thing I had noticed about him. His eyes, too, with their ice-blue clarity, spearing and direct. And the jaunt of his movement, quick and athletic; more than once he had reminded me of a predator whose unpredictability would give him every advantage. A man who might either save you or strike you down when you least expected it.

      Maybe I just wasn’t used to him. Maybe he wasn’t as intimidating as I was imagining. Perhaps I just wasn’t used to his abruptness, his size and power. My father had little time to spare with all the leadership of the keep resting entirely on his shoulders. He dined with his men and rarely visited our wing. No other men were permitted into our quarters, and those that we mingled with throughout our days were strictly supervised. My one private moment with Caleb—resulting in a rushed, featherlight kiss—had been a result of a bold excursion with Bonnie, for which I had later been severely punished.

      I could acknowledge that there was a certain magnetism to Kade Mackenzie, somewhere in the complexity of him. Those teasing hints of his appeal might shine through over time, and overtake the shadowy depths of his personality that I could not interpret. In an attempt to ease my billowing anxiety, I tried to assure myself that my fear was unfounded. But my hope was quickly eroded by my sisters’ continued discussion.

      “At any rate,” Maisie began, and there was sympathy and a note of jealousy in her tone, if I was reading her correctly, “with him, I have a feeling you need to be prepared for the unexpected. No doubt about it, Stella. You’re in for a time of it.”

      Agnes leaned forward, whispering, even though there was no one to overhear us. “Did I tell you what happened to Claire Buchanan’s cousin?” she said.

      I hesitated, sensing that I might not want to hear what Agnes was about to share. Ann answered for me. “Nay, Agnes. What happened to Claire Buchanan’s cousin?”

      “Well. I’m afraid it’s somewhat distressing, Stella. But I think you should hear it.”

      “You never mentioned this before, Agnes,” said Maisie, her eagerness clearly detectable. “Do tell.”

      Agnes paused, as though reconsidering. But then she continued. “I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up, but I think Stella should prepare herself.”

      “For what?” asked Clementine.

      “Well,” continued Agnes, with the undivided attention of all, “Kade Mackenzie attended a gathering at the Buchanan manor—this was half a year or so ago. Lottie told me all about it last time she visited their keep.”

      We all knew that our cousin Lottie, in fact, had been issued not only an invitation to the Buchanan manor, but also a proposal by a lower-ranking nobleman of the Buchanan clan. My father, predictably, had denied the match outright.

      “Claire’s cousin invited him to her private chambers—why I’ll never know. She allowed him...well, whatever he wanted. Claire’s cousin said he did unspeakable things. It took her several days to recover.”

      “What do you mean ‘unspeakable’?” asked Maisie.

      Agnes continued in hushed tones. “Apparently, she was completely overcome.”

      “In what way?” It was my own hesitant question that lingered in the confined space.

      Agnes took a moment to answer. “She said it was the most intense experience of her life.”

      I couldn’t help asking it: “Intense?”

      Agnes nodded. “She spent the